Slayer and the Betrayer
by Njoldara
Summary: Anger is the fuel used to fight the Burning Legion. But perhaps, love can be used in its place. Note : Not really lore friendly.
1. Sunwell

**Death. It is an ugly scent, one of rot, plague, and despair. How it permeated Quel'thalas, seemingly worming its way through every crack in the beautiful moonstone the streets were paved with and the great spires were built from. It crept along the walls, across the sky, as Arthas marched forward towards the glorious Sunwell. She watched, forcing herself into a corner behind a cobalt gauze curtain, as the Scourge stampeded through her beloved home. Her tears blurred her vision, running down her high nose and sharp cheekbones, glistening on porcelain skin. The screams of her kin pierced her ears, the gurgle of those who choked on their own blood, the rip and tear of elven skin as abominations threw their vile hooks. "Pyravia!", shouted a lanky, sandy haired man at her, before a skeleton ran him through with its greatsword.  
She outstretched her hand towards the other Blood Elf, a strangled wail escaping her as she watched his crimson blood pour out onto the once-pure walkway. "Oh, god.. this can't be real...", her thoughts shrieked, her sobs raggedly ripping their way out of her throat. "It can't be real... it can't be real... Oh god, it can't be real.. Alurion..."**

A sharp jostling awoke the onyx-haired elf. "Pyravia.. wake up.", said a lilting voice behind her, thin fingers rocking her shoulder. Pyravia turned, aiming her misty , verdant orbs towards the older elf above her. The greying elf sadly smiled back down at her, wrinkles crinkling further as her lips pulled taut. "Tyalda... why have you woken me?", the younger elf groaned, rolling her head to its original position. "You were whimpering, my dear. It is not healthy to sleep through a night terror..", Tyalda explained, removing her hand from Pyravia's shoulder. "It is time to wake, anyhow.. you cannot sleep all day."

Pyravia grunted in response, throwing her soft, silken pillow over her head. "You better be out of bed and dressed by the time I come back in here!", the elder called as she shut the door to the private room and briskly walked away. Sighing, the young elf forced herself into an upright position, toes dangling from the bed and tickling the velvety rug below. Reaching for her hair brush, she gazed out the large window into the Ghostlands. She could never tell if it was dawn or dusk, as the skies above always seemed to be plagued with heavy clouds and an incomprehensible blackness. The glow of the bio luminescent fungi that grew on the withered and gnarled trees, however, always seemed to cut at least a tiny bit through the gloom. Pyravia blinked back tears as she thought of the sun that had always kissed Quel'thalas gently, harshly dragging the brush through her long, midnight locks.

"Pyravia, take this, the magistrix tore his cloak again and he needs it back as soon as possible.", Tyalda quipped, thrusting an unsightly orange cloak into the black haired girl's bony hands. "Is he ROLLING in thorns?!", Pyravia screeched, exasperated at always having new orders from the magistrix. "That's none of our business... you're my apprentice, so you best get used to this, as you'll eventually take my place as Tranquillen's tailor.", Tyalda sighed, tightening her bright grey bun and adjusting her blouse. Pyravia nodded solemnly in response, picking up her needle and thread, weaving it in and out of the gaudy orange fabric.

"My dear, may I ask what you were dreaming of earlier that had you in such a fit?"

"It was nothing, madame."

"It was Quel'thalas, wasn't it?"

"Yes.. I miss it so dreadfully."

"You know I do as well, but we have to accept this. We must accept that we cannot return until Prince Kael'thas deems it safe for us to do so."

"How long will that take?"

"I don't know, Pyravia."

Tyalda looked sadly down at her apprentice, thoughts of Arthas' brutal invasion piercing her mind.

 **She had found Pyravia rolled tightly in a ball, backed into the corner of a library. Numerous dead surrounded her, their bodies sinewy and gaunt, as though every shred of life had been torn out of them. She shivered so violently, her onyx locks whipping wildly around her thin face, sticking to where her tears had streamed. Tyalda had reached out to touch the shuddering girl, only for her to begin screaming and wailing, gripping the elder's arm until her knuckles went white.**

 **Tyalda slammed a thin-skinned hand over the young girl's mouth, frightened that she had alerted Scourge to her location. Pyravia's eyes were crazed, fresh tears flowing out of them as she clawed at the old seamstress. She buried her face into the greying elf's shoulder, wrapping her arms around her shriveled torso, sobbing and gripping as though the only living elf she had seen in hours would simply fall away like sand. Tyalda sighed, placing her palm against Pyravia's quivering back , quietly whispering to her on how they would escape.**

 **The two slipped out of Quel'thalas, thankfully unscathed, fleeing to the Ghostlands. For weeks, Tyalda could not get Pyravia to speak. Every night, her screams would awake the elderly elf , as she lay thrashing and convulsing in her bed. Finally, one dim morning, as the seamstress gently set morning glory tea in front of the young elf, she spoke. "Thank you.", she murmured, voice crackly and dry from her incessant crying.**

" **What is your name?", Tylada had asked gently, reaching out to take the young elf's hand. She sat, silent, eyes slowly making their way up to Tyalda's kind face. "Pyravia..", she choked, pulling her hand away from Tyalda's.**

" **Pyravia... how old are you?"**

" **13.."**

" **Where are your parents?"**

 **The teenager choked as new tears welled up. That told Tyalda all she needed to know.**

" **Do you have anywhere to go?"**

 **Pyravia shook her head.**

" **You may stay here with me then.. my name is Tyalda, I was passing through Quel'thalas for some new fabrics when Arthas came.. I found you, after I had been hiding from the Scourge myself and was attempting to escape."**

 _ **That had been 9 years ago.**_


	2. The Legion Burns All

Nearly a decade had passed since the fall of Quel'Thalas and the corruption of the Sunwell. In that time, Pyravia had grown to see Tyalda has a substitute mother. She had always been kind to the young woman, even when , in her younger years, she had lashed out or clammed up and refused to talk. The seamstress was a pious woman, living quietly and tending to the people of Tranquillen in any way she could, normally by repairing their clothing. She had a distinct routine that Pyravia was eventually forced to follow, to an extent. She woke at dawn, prayed, made her tea, spent her day sewing and cooking, prayed again, made dinner, and slept. Tyalda, when she could, taught what she had learned as a young lady to Pyravia. The seamstress , as it happened, was extremely well-read and intelligent. It was like living with a private tutor. Her eyes, though dimming from age, were still alert, but soft. Her skin was a light beige, tinges of deep red still dusting the ends of her tall eyebrows and tightly-styled locks of grey.

The two sat in silence, working on their respective sewing projects. So it was every day. Tyalda did not often talk when immersed in fabrics. "Madame?", Pyravia piped up, lifting her tall-bridged nose high, deeply inhaling. "Yes, my dear?", Tyalda answered politely, gold and jade earrings tinkling softly as she turned her head to look at her apprentice. "What is that smell?"

Tyalda knit her eyebrows tightly together, sniffing the hair and wrinkling her nose in disgust. "That's sulfur! One of those Forsaken must have burnt a potion...", she gasped, waving her delicate hands in front of her face.

The world seemed to quiet again for a few moments, before there was an earthshaking crash outside. It rattled the knick knacks on the walls, shook the window panes until the glass threatened to break. An eerie, emerald light glowed through the spire's roof, the stench of sulfur now more powerful than ever. Forsaken shouts exploded, generals directing their troops into formation.

Tyalda gasped and shot up to the window, eyes widening in fear as the glow covered her face. "Pyravia, get on the ground, now!", she bellowed, just before a sickening fel fireball slammed into the wall she was next to.

The young elf hit the floor just in time, as the walls collapsed down onto Tyalda, and a massive fel infernal emerged from the rubble. Pyravia screamed as she lifted her head, looking around to see a repeat of Quel'Thalas. Elven civilians ran in terror, chased by wyrmtongue and imps. Infernals crashed through the walls and ceilings of buildings, Forsaken charging where they were directed. The infernal that stood atop Tyalda's barely moving body turned slowly to look at the struggling young elf. The felfire that burned within it intensified, the sickening green brightening and dancing around its "head".

Black arrows immediately pelted the demon, dark archers drawing its attention away from the young woman. Pyravia clawed her way out from under the moonstone debris and raced over to Tyalda, the elderly woman hardly breathing. She harshly shook the seamstress' head, trying to get her to focus. "Madame! Madame, please wake up!", she wailed, rivers of tears flowing down her face.

" _Pyravia... run._ ", Tyalda gasped, coughing up blood on to the onyx-haired girl's lap. "No, I can't leave you.. I can't.", she sobbed, grabbing the elder's shoulders, attempting to drag her out from beneath their collapsed home.

" _By the Light, listen to me! You... must... RUN._ ", Tyalda hacked, more crimson spattering on to the ground before she took a final, rattling breath.

 **Destruction surrounded her yet again. Nathrezim phased out of black portals, opening larger ones, allowing gargantuan Mo'Arg to come stampeding forward. The screams, the crackle of fire, the shouts of the Forsaken commanders , it was overwhelming. Her own wails deafened her, as she fell forward and sobbed in grief. The felfire... it burned and immolated all that it touched, becoming brighter with everything it consumed.**


	3. Mutilation

"Why are you here...? Sin'dorei...", the towering Demon Hunter growled, blinded and glowing eyes glaring down at the slim, pale form that stood below him.

"Because I want revenge. You posses the ability to give me the tools I need.", the diminutive elf quipped, lips thin and cracked, her face gaunt and hollow.

"Make me Illidari.", Pyravia hissed, gazing up defiantly into the face of Illidan Stormrage. He brought his face down closer to hers, massive horns blocking her in. She could feel the harsh, scrutinizing stare of the Lord of Outland boring into every piece of her body. She refused to look towards the ground. His sharp face was set into a hard glare, seemingly irritated at her lack of submission.

The massive Kal'dorei snorted, lifting his face away from Pyravia's. "Do you think you can withstand something such as fel?", he questioned, gesturing towards the hellish landscape of Shadowmoon Valley.

"It is not a question of what I can withstand. It is a question of what I WILL endure.", she spat, lowering her gaze to the ground. He smirked, ashy lavender skin pulling taut. "Perhaps. We shall see.", he challenged, beckoning her to follow him into the depths of the Black Temple.

Illidan's cloven hooves clacked loudly on the stone floors of the Black Temple, echoing throughout its cavernous halls. Braziers of felfire and void magic lined the blackened walls, Fel Orc clan banners and Illidari crests fluttered in the faint breeze left by the Betrayer. Broken dotted the sidelines, as did low ranking Illidari demon hunters and fel orcs. They all bowed as the intimidating lord passed by, faces turning grim at the sight of the small , drained elf trailing behind. He led her to a room in the Hall of Anguish filled with demon hunters, sparring with each other or practicing on chained up Legion demons. The chamber's walls were carved intricately, the small bonfires along the walls bathing it in a cool, green glow.

"Kayn Sunfury! Kor'vas Bloodthorn!", he bellowed, all faces suddenly snapped towards their master, as a burly Blood Elf man and muscled Night Elf woman ran forward. The two knelt reverently, looking up questioningly at Pyravia. "This... new one. Take her and prepare her.", he ordered, turning and leaving the smaller Blood Elf with the pair. "Yes, Lord Illidan.", they said in unison, taking Pyravia's arms and leading her to the back of the room.

"What is going to happen?", she asked quietly in Thalassian , to the one she identified as Kayn. The fire of his blinded eyes seemed to aim up through his blindfold towards her. "Pain unlike anything you've ever experienced. Let us hope you are able to endure.", he grimaced, turning towards Kor'vas and motioning towards Pyravia's ragged clothing. "This will not do. We have some armaments for you, for the time being.", Kor'vas grunted, voice heavy with the sound of demonic energy.

After tying her into the rather skimpy leather garments, Kor'vas and Kayn led her into a larger chamber filled with other Kal'dorei and Sin'dorei, other men and women in the same sort of armor she had been outfitted with. Numerous Illidari banners hung from the ceiling, bringing color to the otherwise dark and dim room. In the center of the chamber was a glowing, circular pad, embers lifting off of it and releasing a soft light into the area around it. Lord Illidan and a large Broken carrying two sickles stood at the front of the room on a stage-like area, high above the crowd of elven recruits. The Broken had a desperate look in his eyes, seeming to wish he could stop this legion of elves from mutilating themselves so brutally.

Pyravia took her place in the horizontal lines, next to pale turquoise Night Elf man with snowy white hair, tied back into a braid. "You there!", Illidan boomed, "Step forward.", directing a talon to the first Blood Elf in line. She was regal and elegant, indomitable even, with a head of thick, platinum blonde hair. She marched to the front of the pad and stood stoic, looking up towards her new master and saluting him, pressing her fist to her left shoulder. "Your name?"

"Allari, my lord."

"Do you take this curse, pledging yourself to destroying the Burning Legion?"

"I do."

"Will you accept the revilement you receive from your former brethren?"

"I will."

"Step up, Allari, and be made anew."

Allari cautiously lifted herself on to the platform, her bare feet burning against the warm glow and embers. She turned her face up to Lord Stormrage once more, and he began a series of incantations in a Demonic language she could not identify. The characteristic green of fel magic erupted from his outstretched talons, into Allari's eyes, igniting them with sickening emerald flame. Her knees quivered, threatening to give out as she horrendously screamed through gritted teeth in agony. Her hands balled into fists, she quaked in pain as her mortal eyes were burned out of their sockets and turned into fel-iron. Illidan intensified his chanting, the fel forcing its way further into Allari's eyesockets.

Finally, it was over, and she collapsed to her knees. Kor'vas and Kayn rushed forward with greenish iron daggers, swiping them deeply into her skin, which had darkened to a grotesque burgundy color. Wherever they cut began to glow softly with a mossy green, Allari groaned loudly as the tattoos were slashed into her. Blood dripped down her face from her eyes, crimson slowly turning into bright, verdant felblood. Her mortal eyes were no more, intense fire burst from the metal globes now present. Kayn and Kor'vas backed away slowly as the unpowered tattoos sealed and burned themselves into her skin.

"Rise, Illidari.", Illidan beckoned. Allari rose unsteadily, turning towards the other new recruits. She raised her fist high in the air, looking down at her fellow elves. "For Lord Illidan!", she crowed, stepping off the platform and grabbing an amethyst-haired Night Elf by his arm, allowing herself to be led from the room.

Pyravia witnessed the same event over and over, each recruit stepping on to the pad, having their eyes seared out of their skull and their skin mutilated with Arcane tattoos, in an effort from keeping the newfound demon blood from overwhelming them. The Broken that stood next to Illidan lowered his covered head to the ground, sighing in disgust as Illidan continued with his dark task. Finally, Illidan beckoned to Pyravia, the last recruit that stood in the chamber. "Step forward, Sin'Dorei.", he growled, pointing a clawed finger towards her. She strode towards the platform, gazing up at the terrifying Lord of Outland. There was something different in his face, though, his expression did not match the one he had worn when indoctrinating the other recruits. Slight worry, perhaps? Or maybe disbelief that she had not run away? He asked her the same questions as the other recruits, then motioned for her to step up on to the glowing platform.

She screamed relentlessly as her eyes were singed into fel-iron, the burning sensation seeming to travel all over her body, through her very veins themselves. She crumpled to her knees almost instantly, shaking violently as the fel worked its way throughout her thin form. "Lord Illidan, are you sure this one will even survive her indoctrination, let alone training?", the Broken rasped, voice quick with concern. The Kal'Dorei ignored him, continuing his incantations as Kayn and Kor'vas rushed out yet again and began slicing the Arcane tattoos into Pyravia's flesh. With every slash, her cries became louder, her voice wavering as though she would faint from the sheer pain alone. _"What have I done?"_ , her subconscious cried out as the felfire coursed its way through her blood, changing her to her very core, her very soul shrieking in torment.


	4. Tortured

She lay writhing on her bedroll, her ears now filled with the sounds of the other recruits in seemingly endless agony. Tortured cries escaped her newfound allies as the fel slowly sealed itself within their broken bodies. She could see some of them simply give out, in her spectral vision. Their life force would fade until it was only a spark, and the fel would snuff it out. She could see a faint blue, arcane glow, one that gently pulsated, in the bodies of the Sin'dorei. This aura did not present itself in the Kal'dorei bodies though. _It must be the arcane we feed off of..._

Many Blood Elves died that night, as well as two Night Elves. The purple-haired Night Elf she had come to identify as Jace Darkweaver dragged the bodies out by their arms, some leaving smears of blood behind them. Pyravia could hear him speaking with another Night Elf in the hall outside of the recruit's room.

"Izal.. I've never seen so many die just from the fel infusion alone. How will they ever withstand training, or even their rite of passage?", Jace exhaled, voice scraping with fel. "Let Kayn and Kor'vas worry about that. You and I still have bodies to burn.", Izal hissed, trotting back into the sickroom and roughly grabbing a male Blood Elf's body. There was a sudden thud as the bloodied corpse roughly hit the floor, the slap of the two Night Elves fists hitting their shoulders as Lord Illidan entered the room. He scanned the room harshly, eyes seeming to linger on Pyravia. "This one. I want you to keep an eye on her, we cannot afford to lose any more and she only barely made it through her first infusion.", Illidan ordered, motioning towards Pyravia's crumpled form. "Lord Illidan, with all due respect, are you certain she will even survive through the night?", Izal questioned hurriedly, stealing a rough glance at the pale Blood Elf.

"Do not question me, Whitemoon.", Illidan snarled, casting an intimidating glare down at Izal. Her defiant expression faltered, and she knelt before him. "Yes, my lord.", she whispered, as Illidan stomped out of the room.

"Lord Illidan.", Kael'thas purred as he bowed graciously before the Night Elf. "Prince Kael'thas.", Illidan replied curtly, tilting his head in slight nod of acknowledgment. "Kayn Sunfury tells me your new set of Illidari cannot seem to endure the fel.", Kael'thas asked, voice sharp. "Many of them are your kind, Sunstrider. Their arcane addiction has weakened their bodies more than they know, the fel rips them apart in a matter of hours, pulling away at the seams that withdrawal has already loosened.", Illidan growled, trailing to a balcony slightly off the Den of Mortal Delights. "Did you not teach them to drain mana from demons and other creatures?"

"I did, my lord, but it cannot sustain them as the Sunwell once did. Until we create another one, we as a people shall never be the same. We cannot posses our original strength without it.", Kael'thas challenged, eyes directed towards one of the verdant spheres that hovered above his shoulder.

Illidan huffed, turning towards the young prince and crossing his arms, arcane tattoos glowing softly. "How many still remain?", Kael'thas questioned once more, looking up into Illidan's blindfold. "Two women and two men, though I highly doubt the men will make it through another night, as well as one of the women. Her addiction has ravaged her body more so than the others.", Illidan sighed testily.

"Only four? What are their names?", Kael'thas pressed further, wondering if he would remember any of them from Silvermoon or Quel'Thalas. "You may go see them for yourself, if you wish, though the sight of them will not be pleasant.", the Demon Hunter answered, turning and walking towards the summit of the Black Temple. Jace Darkweaver poked his head into the small hidden area, slowly striding in and bowing to Kael'thas. "Darkweaver.. take me to the new Sin'Dorei recruits.", Kael'thas ordered, briskly following the burly Night Elf.

The Lord of the Sin'dorei gasped at the sight of the few remaining Blood Elf demon hunters. They had all began to sprout horns, the men's skin had become dark and scaly, all of them without blindfolds. The angry fires of their eyes slowly crept up their faces before dissipating near their long eyebrows, blood steadily leaking from the sockets, pooling and drying on their collarbones. "By the Light, Illidan...", the prince choked, gaze washing over each individual elf. A chestnut-haired man reached up and rasped something unintelligible in Thalassian, reaching out to his prince. Kael'thas brushed the quavering hand away, placing it back down on the man as his final breath rattled out of his lips. He sighed dejectedly, looking over at the others. Jace hurried in with Izal, grabbing the fresh body and carrying it out of the sickroom.

Pyravia and Allari seemed to be faring better than the single remaining elven man, although not by much. They both attempted to turn their heads towards the prince as he neared them, but found themselves unable to. Pyravia looked like a skeleton with only a tiny bit of skin stretched over it, her face gaunt, hollow and shadowed. Any movement caused a burst of searing pain to fire throughout the pair. Kael'thas analyzed them for a bit, before muttering something to himself and sweeping his way out of the blood-spattered room.

"The black-haired one. What is her name?", Kael'thas broke in, voice shattering the silence of the Black Temple summit. Illidan looked up from the skull of Gul'dan, standing and making his way over to Kael'thas. "Pyravia.", he answered, staring down into Shadowmoon Valley.

"And the blonde?"

"Allari."

"Both were present during Arthas' invasion of Quel'Thalas...", the prince sighed, turning his gaze toward the same hellish landscape that Illidan stared out at.

Illidan snorted in response, opening and stretching his wings.

"You must do something about Pyravia's arcane addiction, Illidan. If you or any of the other Illidari continue to ignore it, she will be dead by morning.", Kael'thas pleaded, his eyebrows knit together in distress as the thought of another one of his people dying crossed his mind.

"And what of Allari?"

"She is not as far gone as she looks. Both her and the other male will be up and moving in a few hours, their fel is nearly sealed."


	5. The Void Is Close

_By the Light.. will this pain ever end?_

"Lord Illidan, this one still has not recovered enough to even stand. Allari and Melreilan have already began their training. It is debatable whether she is ever going to recover.", Izal explained, gesturing down at Pyravia's withered form. He seemed lost in thought for a moment, before speaking. "Leave us.", he ordered, shooing Izal and Jace out of the room.

Pyravia directed her blinded eyes up towards the Lord of Outland, who began to kneel down beside her. Gently, he turned her body to face him, so she was flat on her back. "Do not speak, conserve any energy you may have left within you. The fel will overtake you if you spend any more of it.", the Night Elf directed, retrieving a cobalt crystal from a small pouch at his side. "It will not replenish you like your Sunwell would have once done, but it will balance out the arcane and fel energies fighting for control within you. With some luck, you will survive."

He took one of her bony hands into his own, talons lightly scraping along her porcelain skin, placing the gem within her palm and curling her fingers around it, encapsulated within his own. "Drain it. All of it.", he commanded, staring down the young woman struggling to stay alive.

 _The energy within this gem... how heavenly! It has been so long since I've had such pure mana..._

He pierced the gem with a talon on his thumb, allowing the magical energy stored within to trickle out slowly into Pyravia's palm. She absorbed it through her skin eagerly and greedily, wishing it would flow out of the gem more quickly. She felt the strength returning to her in moments, Illidan let go of her hand as she reached over with her other, holding the gem with both hands and drinking in the mana. Her cheeks began to fill out, her skin tightened and her hair seemed to shine brightly and healthily once more. She soon sat up , breaking the crystal further.

Illidan watched carefully as the life returned to the young elf, the felfire in her eyes exploding vibrantly and intensely. She shuddered as she drained the last of the mana, the jewel crumbling into dust. She took a deep breath, flexing her fingers and rolling her head. "Thank you, my lord.", she spoke, rising to her feet and bowing reverently. "You would be of no use to the rest of the Illidari or I if you had perished like much of the others did.", Illidan grunted, standing and flaring his wings, ignoring her gratitude

"When shall I begin my training?", she questioned anxiously, dragging her fingers across the jagged markings that now covered her arms and torso. "You will not be training with Bloodthorn or any of the other typical trainers, as you seem to have a particular issue with mana addiction and withdrawal. I do not trust them to keep it in check.", the lord replied to her, voice deep. "What does this mean for me then?", she said, squinting and cocking her head.

"You will be training with me. I want to keep a close eye on you to make sure you do not end up in such a wretched state again.", he asserted, turning his gaze down towards her and handing her a thick, black strip of cloth. "Present yourself at the summit at dawn tomorrow. Do not be late or you will sincerely regret it."

"Yes, my lord.", she sighed, bowing deeply and respectfully as the Betrayer turned and marched out of the room.

Shadowmoon Valley was much like the Ghostlands, as in it was near impossible to tell whether it was night or day. The buzz of fel in the air was impossible to ignore, the very atmosphere was saturated with it and the smell of demons and sulfur.

She climbed the stairs to the apex of the temple at what she guessed to be dawn, tightening her new blindfold. She was thankful that her eyes were no longer visible, though she noted that several Illidari did not wear blindfolds themselves, most prominently Allari. Soon, she found herself to be surrounded by the skies of Outland, the gloom of Shadowmoon far below her. She saw the Betrayer kneeling in the center of the court, a large skull held in his hand that he gazed intently at. She saluted. "Lord Illidan.", her voice rang out across the expanse, tones thick with the new, resonating vibration of fel.

He stood and dropped the skull, wordlessly coming towards her and tossing her two heavy, chartreuse colored glaives. She caught one in her right hand, the other clattering to the ground, slicing her wrist on the way down. Roses bloomed across her cheeks as she bent down to pick up the fallen glaive. Illidan sighed testily. "I'm assuming you've never used a weapon in your life then."

"No, my lord, I have not."

"Come here, you're not even holding it properly.", he grumbled, beckoning the young woman over. "Like this..."

He held the glaive flat in his right hand, using his left to take one of Pyravia's and wind it into the glaive's handle, curling her fingers around the bar in its center. "Doesn't that feel much more comfortable?", he inquired, removing his hand from the glaive and passing the second over into Pyravia's grasp. He backed away from her, watching her fumble to keep a grip on the weapons. "They're rather heavy, my lord.", she gasped, nearly dropping one of the large glaives once more. "You'll become accustomed to it soon enough. Now, let's work on a proper stance, shall we?", he ordered. "Put your right leg and foot forward, and your left leg back, standing on your left foot's toes. Right arm forward, holding your warglaive flat, now do the same with your left arm behind you. Make sure you bend your torso slightly forward."

Pyravia adjusted herself, prompting Illidan to come towards her and raise her arms slightly, his claws dragging across her pale flesh. "Focus on your balance.", he ordered coldly. With a twirl of his hand, he summoned a wyrmtongue out of the nether, bound in shadowy manacles. "Slash. That should be perfectly self-explanatory."

With a loud grunt, Pyravia brought her right warglaive up high, then sliced down diagonally. She whipped her left arm around, violently cleaving the wyrmtongue. It hollered out in pain, before disintegrating and returning to the nether. "Excellent. Now, again.", Illidan commanded.


	6. Shan'do

So it was with every day. She spent hours listening to Illidan's orders, slowly but surely becoming more dexterous and agile with her slices. She could unleash great combos of shredding attacks, flipping and twirling like a dancer. As time passed, she found herself becoming quite fond of Illidan, despite his brooding and generally imperious nature. With every day that passed, his voice lost a bit of the coldness it held in her presence. His gaze would sometimes soften when watching her train, although it immediately would harden when he felt her looking at him.

The two would occasionally hold conversation whenever Pyravia recharged with a mana gem, though Illidan was often stiff and rather unsociable in the beginning. With every set of words they spoke to each other, his tongue loosened, releasing sentences rather than wordless grunts or sighs. Though she would not call it a friendship, she knew she held a closer relationship with her master than the rest of the Illidari did.

One early morning, however, things were quite different. As she ascended the summit, as per the usual, she found Illidan standing before the staircase, waiting for her. She cocked her head at him, long black hair falling over her shoulder, high regal brows raising and tightening the skin around her hidden eyes. "My lord?"

"You've become adept at basic attacks, that much is certain. Are you confident with your abilities, Pyravia?", the towering Kal'Dorei questioned, looking down at the diminutive elf standing a few steps below him. "Yes, I would think so.", she wavered, her look of confusion intensifying. "Then consider this your 'graduation day', of sorts. I have a bit of a gift for you.", he spoke, almost affectionately, beckoning her to follow him. In the center of the court stood a gargantuan nathrezim, bound in the same manner as the past wyrmtongue and felguards had been. The nathrezim snarled, baring his hideous fangs at the master and student. "This is the initiation every Illidari must go through, it will allow you to unlock your inner demon and utilize it to the best of your ability. Once you do this, we may begin your true training.", Illidan explained, motioning towards the nathrezim. "What will you have me do, my lord?", she asked, staring uncertainly at the dreadlord.

"Slay him in combat and eat his heart. Make his blood and power your own, thero'shan.", Lord Stormrage urged. Pyravia's eyes widened, not at the prospect of slaughtering a demon, not even at the idea of eating its heart, but at what her master had just called her. _Thero'shan... He called me this? He must've misspoke, he could not possibly have meant to call me such an endearing Darnassian term._

She shook it off, drawing the warglaives she had began to carry constantly off her back. She strode forwards towards the nathrezim, readying herself into a combat stance. "You are ready?", Illidan inquired, raising his hand to blast the enchanted chains off the demon. "Yes, my lord."

With a quiet incantation, the chains blew off the nathrezim, allowing him to stretch his arms and wings. His voice invaded her mind, deep and velvety, so unfitting for a demon. _"Little Illidari... The Legion shall break you and your pathetic master."_ With a furious yell, the invasion of Tranquillen ripping its way into her mind, Pyravia rushed forward and brutally sundered the dreadlord's right arm. He howled in pain, firing off a volley of shadowbolts in her direction. She flipped backwards, bringing both warglaives up at once and slicing his torso. The fearsome demon bellowed in fury once more, flaring his wings open and sending a swarm of carrion bugs at the young demon hunter. With a swift charge, Pyravia ended the battle, sweeping both warglaives across the dreadlord's neck, impaling one into it, spraying black blood all over the court.

The dreadlord fell to the ground, writhing and grabbing at the glaive mired in his flesh. "Now, Pyravia, while he is weak!", Illidan shouted, earning Pyravia's nod in response. With a yell, filled to the brim with rage, she buried her second blade into the dreadlord's chest, raking it in a circle, prying out the thudding, onyx heart. It oozed midnight blood down her hands and wrists. Shutting her eyes, she did something so foul, so vile, she wondered if the Light would ever shine on her with favor again. Her teeth tore into the demon's heart, smearing and gushing the black liquid on her face and neck. She bit it again, and again, and again, until there was nothing left but a pool of festering obsidian mess below her.

A rush of fiery fel energy tore through her veins, her dull tattoos igniting to a vibrant, lime green. They glowed softly, and did not dull. She had noted that other demon hunters in the temple no longer had the original mossy markings as well, they all glowed with bright shades of red,green and teal, sometimes even purple. It was strangely beautiful, if one was unaware of what was done to create it. She felt her horns elongate, curling into gnarled ram's horns around her tall, elven ears. At her back, a gust of wind came as tattered, dark burgundy wings burst forth from her shoulder blades. They flared and flexed, before folding and disappearing into her skin.

She began to rise to her feet, before collapsing back down to her knees, her vision going completely black as she saw her master sprinting towards her, arms outstretched to keep her skull from smashing against the stone floors.


	7. My Blood Sears

Darkness, all around her.. her spectral vision was failing, only dim lights would occasionally flicker, and then suddenly blink out. Her limbs were heavy like cement, she could not even move her head, nor even lift a finger. She tried to speak, but all she could do was rasp , sounding like a sick snake. "Thero'shan?", came the voice of the master, as did the roughness of his palm against her cheek. Her eyes fluttered shut once more, but she could still faintly feel the Kal'Dorei's flesh against her own. She welcomed the dull sensation, focusing on it rather than the numbness that held her body tightly. "You've exhausted all your mana once again, I should have been paying closer attention.", Illidan sighed, bringing his hand away from her face and opening one of her palms. She dully felt him place another mana gem within it, using his own fingers to curl hers around it. "Drain it.", he ordered, puncturing the crystal, allowing the mana to flow forth.

She weakly absorbed it into her skin, but not as quickly as the mana fell out. It began to pool and drip from her hand, dissolving into nothing. She heard Illidan grunt quietly, removing the mana gem from her hand resealing it with a short incantation. "Pyravia, you will not survive if you do not absorb some kind of magic energy soon.", he whispered, taking her hand and placing it upon a tattoo etched into his shoulder. "Drain from my own reserves, simple mana gems are not enough to make a difference with the state you are in currently."

 _From your own reserves...? What could you mean, my lord?_

With his free arm, he lifted Pyravia up into his lap, next to where he had been sitting and watching over her. Holding her tightly against his torso, he clenched his fingers harder around her own. She obeyed as best she could, siphoning energy from her master. The darkness began to lift, a great light appearing where Illidan's chest was in front of her, taking up her entire field of vision. His breath hitched as she intensified her draining, bringing a second hand to his other shoulder. Illidan's breath became labored and heavy, hot against Pyravia's neck as he bowed his head towards her. Her grip on him tightened, her cheek pressed against his large pectoral. She could feel sweat beginning to bead on his ashy, lavender skin. "Thero'shan...", he groaned, wrapping both arms firmly around the frail elf.

Illidan's energy coursing through Pyravia felt like her blood had been replaced by molten lava, searing the insides of her veins and heart. It burned, but this burn was not painful.. No, it was tingly, pleasant even. It was sublime, intimate... a small moan escaped her throat as she curled her fingers, her nails digging into her master's pale, scarred skin. "Shan'do..", she murmured, earning Illidan's talons winding their way through her hair. He gently pulled her charcoal locks back,silently urging her to look up at him. She did so, and he removed his large hand from her hair, swiping a thumb across her lips, removing the congealing blood of the dreadlord she had slain. "Master... what are you doing?", Pyravia breathed, looking down as though she were ashamed. Illidan narrowed his eyes, lifting his student's head back up with his thumb knuckle. "You act as though I am completely unaware of what you dream at night, Thero'shan...", he purred, dragging a talon across Pyravia's sharp jaw. Pyravia gulped nervously, cheeks turning a deep crimson as the dreams she had fought so hard to keep hidden came to her thoughts. _How long has he known?_

 _How could I help myself? I've spent nearly all of my waking hours with him since I arrived... Is it wrong of me to think of him in such a manner?_

"You need not be embarrassed, Pyravia.. I have known for many weeks, and you are not alone in your feelings.", he murmured, placing a delicate kiss on the crown of her head. The younger demon hunter's attention immediately snapped back up towards her master. "Master, you -", she started, before Illidan placed a thumb to her lips, cutting her off. "There is no need for formalities here. We are alone as can be.", he crooned, motioning around the temple apex. "Illidan, does your heart not belong to Lady Tyrande?", she asked, eye-fires filled with concern. Illidan sighed deeply, a sad look running across his face. "Tyrande will always hold a place deep within my heart, but I know her fate does not lie with me. She made her decision centuries ago.. I have tried my damnedest to change it, but to no avail. You, however... ", the master muttered, sweeping his thumb over Pyravia's cheekbones.

"There has been no room in my heart for anyone other than her for such a long time... you've stolen it though, piece by piece by piece.. No matter what I've done, no matter what I've told myself, **I have not been able to keep you out**.", he confessed further, pressing his forehead against his student's once more, taking a deep, shuddering breath.

"Illidan...", Pyravia sighed, bringing a hand up to his jagged face , rubbing her delicate thumb against his thick cheekbone. He leaned into her touch, his wings flaring and wrapping around them both. The Lord of Outland slowly brought his lips to Pyravia's, gently brushing them against her own, inviting her to come forward. She did so, locking her lips with her master's, dragging her hand down his neck and resting it on his pectoral. A light moan escaped him, his free hand traveling once more to back of her head, gripping her midnight hair.

The student pulled back again, languishing in the feel of Illidan's fingers cupping her head. "But.. why me?", she muttered, lips parted gently.

"There is beauty in shackled and buried rage.. I can see it flicker in your spirit, Thero'shan. Every piece of you enchants me and calls out to me, in a way I can only describe as endless siren's song... From the way you idly speak when draining mana, to the way you grit your teeth in combat. It is beautiful."

 _ **The two that sat entangled in each other's arms that day formed something deeper, something that not even Tyrande had been able to awaken in Illidan. Illidan, for once in centuries, had let down his fearsome and intimidating guise as the Lord of Outland, letting go of all previous notions and opening his heart completely to his student. Long years of pain and deep-set anger melted away from the pair, as they found solace in each other.**_


	8. Unravel Me

Weeks passed since Illidan and Pyravia's deeply intimate encounter. The two still trained together, occasionally sending small , meaningful smiles or lingering touches when it was otherwise unnecessary. Pyravia's fel and chaos powers burst forth after she had consumed the dreadlord's heart, and Illidan took full advantage of this. He trained her in every possible, becoming deeply proud as he fashioned her into a weapon of rage and savage bloodthirstiness. Dusk fell, and the two stood in the center of the court, sparring with unmatched ferocity. Pyravia seemed much angrier in her attacks, especially when Illidan had to roughly force her back after she performed an exceptionally brutal Fel Rush. "Thero'shan, does something trouble you?", he inquired quietly, stowing his warglaives.

Pyravia took a long, ragged breath before dropping her blades with a loud clatter. "What have I done to anger you, my master?", she moaned, burying her face into her hands. "What in the name of Elune are you talking about?", he gaped, marching over to her, reaching out to take her face in his hands. She lightly slapped them away, he flinched at the uncharacteristic action. "Speak, Pyravia.", he ordered, his voice taking on the tone it did when he bellowed orders to the lowly naga.

"You have been so cold, so distant since that morning that we.. connected. Have I done something to anger you?", she asked softly, fearing to look up into her Shan'do's face, the craze of bloodlust gone from her. She heard Illidan sigh, and felt his palm against her cheek, urging her to look up into his eyes. "I feared you no longer felt the same, I did not want to press the matter further.", he explained dejectedly, looking down into Pyravia's blindfold. She reached up and cupped the hand he had placed on her cheek, leaning into his touch. "Dalah'surfal..", she whispered, offering a small grin to her lord and master. Illidan's eyes widened at the sound of the old Darnassian term of endearment, how beautiful it had been rolling off her tongue. "' **My beloved one** '", he sighed, translating from his native language, wrapping his arms tightly against Pyravia's newly-toned body, pressing her into his own. He heard her moan contentedly, bringing her arms around his muscled back, dragging a long, delicate finger up and down his spine. His breath hitched, a smirk playing at his lips as he hungrily kissed the younger elf. "Kenethil'surfas..", the master groaned into his Thero'shan's lips, her tongue flicking across the soft rims of his mouth. Their kisses intensified, until both were on the ground and Pyravia was dragging her nails down Illidan's back. He laid back, wings outstretched and flat, as she straddled her master's hips, a new firmness present and grinding between her legs. Illidan brought her face back to his, holding her head gently, kissing her deeply, slowly. Her hands traveled up and down his chest and hips, her heart thrumming like a hummingbird's.

They stopped for a moment, looking at each other, as Illidan wormed a talon underneath Pyravia's blind fold, slipping it off the top of her head. Her heavy, black locks fell around her face, no longer held back by the thick fabric. Her eyes were heavy lidded looking down at her lover, the felfire framed by midnight lashes. "Beautiful...", he murmured, raising his head to kiss her eyelids gently. "May I...", she trailed off, fingers traveling up her master's face to his ever-present blindfold. Illidan nodded slightly, allowing her to slide her fingers underneath, working it off over his high, Kal'Dorei tail of hair even darker than her own. His eyes... they were grander than she could have have ever expected. They burned with a fire that rivaled the very Hand of Gul'dan, etched into them were thousands of tiny runes drawn by Sargeras' own hand, in a language older than both of them could ever fathom.

"How long has it been since you removed that blasted thing in front of another person?", she questioned languidly, stroking his cheekbone with her thumb, gazing deeply into his magnificent fel-iron orbs. "Not since I received them, long before Azshara's betrayal and the Legion's invasion of the Well of Eternity..", he growled, memories of his early youth flooding back into his mind. She often forgot just how old the man she lay atop was, often forgetting the Night Elves' gift of immortality. The Blood Elves, though they aged slowly and often lived for thousands of years, still did not nearly reach the level that Night Elves already had.

"Dalah'surfal..", Illidan muttered, "Is this truly what you want?"

"It is.. I have not wanted anyone like you before, Illidan, not ever."

A warm smile pulled his lips taut, before he slammed his lips against hers with newfound passion, adoration even. They tangled their fingers in each other's hair, tongues lapping against each other's. Pyravia began to grind against Illidan's already hardened member, earning deep, rumbling moans from him. He gripped her harder than before, biting her lips, unable to keep from thrusting his hips up towards her. She ground slowly , tantalizingly, watching Illidan's eyes glow in lust. She buried her face in the crook of his neck, kissing him gently as he untied the top of her leather armor, letting it fall away, revealing her small breasts. They too had the wicked spikes of arcane tattoos covering them, the pink of her nipples standing out brightly against the lime green. She ground harder, slower against him, starting to moan herself as Illidan's member against her still-clothed sex.

He raised his hands to her hips, grabbing them firmly, his talons digging into her soft skin, leaving small scratches as he tugged off her leggings, throwing them behind him unceremoniously. She grabbed one of his massive horns to support herself, receiving several kisses on her abdomen and hips. She soon let go and scooted down his legs, dragging his pants off as she moved downwards, pressing butterfly kisses to his legs until she hit where the demonic satyr's legs began. With a twitch of his hoof, he tossed his pants to the side, then flipped so Pyravia was on her back , on the stone floor of the Black Temple. She grabbed his member eagerly, spreading her legs widely, wincing and gasping as he pressed himself into her without warning.

Further and further he went, her toned legs wrapping around his hips tightly as he folded his wings to his back as closely as he could. "Wait..", she said, breathing heavily and bringing a hand to Illidan's face. "Yes, my Thero'shan?", he asked lovingly, gazing down at the Sin'Dorei below him. "I.. won't get pregnant, will I?", she worried aloud, grip on her lover's face tightening. Illidan kissed the tip of her nose softly. "No, the fel has rendered the both of us sterile.", the master reassured, before thrusting harshly into his beloved. She moaned and yelped loudly, digging her nails into her teacher's shoulders, her lips in a fiery lock with his.

With each thrust, deep, purring groans escaped from him. He arched his back upwards, as Pyravia grabbed his horns once more, moaning loudly as he bit her nipples and tender neck. He thrust himself into her over and over, relishing in the way she cried out, the way she arched herself forward from the sensation of him within her.

"Illidan...", she murmured, tightening her grip on the master's horns. He dragged a sharp talon down her spine, kissing her neck as she gasped. "Dalah'surfal...", he groaned into her skin, thrusting slower and stronger. He dragged his tongue up her neck, kissing underneath Pyravia's jaws, listening to the way her breath hitched. One of her ram's horns scraped up the side of his face, drawing a small amount of blood. The bright green liquid slid down his jaw, where Pyravia eagerly licked it up, kissing the wound with adoration, arms wrapping around her beloved's neck.

They laid for hours with each other, coming as close to the edge as they could, then stopping only to start again. Finally, Pyravia cried out for relief, and the two fell over the edge in unison, groaning their partner's name in pure ecstasy and bliss.


	9. I Rage

"Are you alright?", Illidan snickered, flopping over on his back and slinging the younger demon hunter on to his chest. A light, sex-intoxicated giggle escaped from Pyravia as she laid her head down above her master's heart, careful not to stab him with her new horns more than necessary. "Sleeping on my back may be a problem for a while, but I'm sure I will overcome it.", she sighed, tracing one of Illidan's arcane tattoos absentmindedly with her index finger.

The pair laid in the quiet, hearing each other's breathing slow and hearts murmur faintly. Illidan placed a hand upon his student's exposed shoulder blades, dragging his thumb up and down her soft neck, peppered lightly with bite marks. "Dalah'surfal.. what brought you here?", Illidan suddenly inquired, looking down at his partner. Her gaze suddenly hardened as she looked down from her master, painful memories of Tranquillen flooding into her mind. "The same reason anyone else is here.. I watched my home be razed, my loved one slaughtered, all I knew gone in a sea of felfire.", she whispered, burying her head deeper into her lover's chest.

"'Loved one'. Who did they take from you?", Illidan questioned further, slowing his stroking. Pyravia took a shuddering breath, one filled with welling anger, before speaking again. "She was not my mother, but... she took her place after my true mother was slaughtered in Arthas' vile crusade in Quel'Thalas.", she spat venomously, 'Arthas' rolling off her tongue like it was a dirty word. The Lord of Outland raised his gaze towards the sky, holding Pyravia tightly against him. She sighed once more. "You lust for revenge, I remember.. This is where your anger comes from?", he murmured, placing the pieces together within his mind.

"We cannot lay here forever, my lord.", she spoke quietly, restarting her absentminded tracing. "You are right.. there is something I wish for you to accompany me on tomorrow. You have no field experience, and that must change.", Illidan admitted, his voice reverting to its typical, commanding tone. Pyravia rose silently from her master, retrieving her leather armaments and lacing herself into them. "Legion squads have been found patrolling the border to Terrokar, ambushing our teams of Broken when they attempt to pass through. We cannot allow this.", he continued, tugging his burgundy pants on over his hooves.

"What would you have me do, my lord?", the student questioned, turning to look at the Betrayer. "You will slay them. All of them. Their arrogance will not be tolerated, believing they can encroach on _my_ dominion.", Illidan hissed, fist clenched tightly in displeasure. "With all due respect, why will you be coming as well then, if you wish me to kill them?", she warbled in confusion. "I do not wish to see you fall in battle to lowly pawns of Kil'Jaeden. Your training is not yet complete but fighting with bound enemies will only teach so much.", he muttered, looking to his Thero'shan.

Pyravia's eyes narrowed as she retied her blindfold behind her head. "Come here.", he ordered once more, holding his own blindfold in his hand. His student came forward silently, taking the black cloth from his hand and reaching up to tie it behind his high tail of thick, midnight locks. As she leaned towards him, he met her lips intimately and softly, pulling away when she had finished knotting the fabric.

"Dalah'surfal...", he breathed lovingly, dragging a thick thumb over Pyravia's cheek before turning and leaping off the temple summit's edge, taking flight and gliding to a group of Broken in the temple's massive entrance.

"Will we be alone, my lord?", Pyravia asked anxiously, kneeling outside the Black Temple gates and sharpening her glaives. "For the next few weeks, yes... However, you must join the other Illidari in their assaults soon. Regrettably, I cannot keep you by my side at all times.", Illidan stated, hopping down with a loud _thud_ from the top of the massive gates. "Forgive my informality, but.. How often will we see each other, once we come to that point?", she demanded, eyes snapping to her teacher. Illidan gazed down at her for a few moments, before speaking. "We will discuss this at another time. Now is not the proper moment.", he lectured sternly as Pyravia sheathed her blades, before grabbing her roughly and placing her upon his back, taking flight.

The Betrayer landed softly in the branches of one of the spire-like trees that ran across the border between Terrokar and Shadowmoon, peering down at a group of wrathguard and felstalkers below. Pyravia slid off of Illidan's back silently, crouching down on the branch and drawing her warglaives. Hate filled the fires glowing in her blindfold. Illidan leaned down, lips only a few mere inches away from her tall ears. "You know what to do. Show me what you've learned.", he calmly and quietly ordered, his breath hot on his student's neck. The younger demon hunter nodded in response, slipping silently down the trunk of the tree to a branch that spanned out nearer to the Legion squad. She crept along on her stomach, easing her way out further on to the branch.

She stayed curled around the branch for a moment, listening to the demons mutter amongst themselves in a language she did not know. Swiftly, she swung down so she was hanging like a small pig on a spit. Suddenly, with a loud snarl, she threw herself down on to a large, violet wrathguard below. Illidan grinned as her blades sliced down on each side of the creature's neck, spilling bright green felblood all over its 'friends'. The demons growled in response, felstalkers howling in rage and leaping towards Pyravia. She agilely dodged the clumsy dog-like beasts, before being slammed to the ground with the flat side of another wrathguard's axe. The young demon hunter hissed loudly before somersaulting back to her feet, throwing herself on to the wrathguard and burying both blades in its chest. The wrathguard bellowed a series of what she guessed to be curses, spittle flying up from its mouth into her face. Felblood poured from the wounds as she tore them out of the demon's bloodied corpse,eyes violently scouring the land for the felstalkers.

The animalistic demons came rushing at her from behind, one slamming its jaws down on her hair and dragging her on to her back. The second beast attempted to gore her face, but she kicked it off with ease, throwing a warglaive behind her and impaling the first demon. The creature screeched angrily, blinded by the blade thrust into its sensory glands. It released its hold on her hair, backing away and furiously thrashing until the warglaive clattered to the ground. Vile blood cascade down its snout as it searched for the blood elf. A cruel laugh escaped Pyravia as she smashed her second glaive deep into its skull, blood spattering on to her face and lips. Retrieving her first glaive, she swung around and brutally slashed the second hound as it attempted to throw itself on her again. It yelped loudly, falling to ground and growling as Pyravia let loose an explosion of fel, incinerating the last demon.

Illidan glided to the ground and placed a hand on his student's shoulder, attempting to calm her heavy, angered panting. "Well done, Thero'shan.", he praised quietly, rubbing her shoulder in applause.


	10. Lay My Soul Bare

"Perhaps we should do something about...this.", Illidan softly murmured, dragging his talons through Pyravia's long, onyx hair as she sat upon his knee."Why do you say that?", she questioned, reaching an arm back and placing it on her master's cheek. "A felstalker forced you on to your back simply by snapping it up.. Imagine how a felguard or shivarra could manipulate it to their advantage..", he answered, leaning into the blood elf's caress, shutting his eyes calmly. "I don't want to think about that..", she giggled lightly, moving her thumb back and forth across Illidan's sharp cheekbone. He sighed languidly, laying back on the large bed he sat upon, taking his Thero'shan with him and loosely draping his arms around her.

" _I know you miss me when I join Darkweaver on his escapades.", Pyravia taunted lightly, walking out from behind her master as he brooded over a series of maps placed on the war table. Illidan snorted in response. "...and I know you miss me when the cold of night comes.", she teased again, crossing her toned arms across her chest. He bemusedly turned his gaze to her, standing up to his full height. "Your point would be?", the Betrayer said, smirking and dragging a claw in a circle on the table. She gulped as he backed her against one of the war room's walls, placing a large hand above her and blocking her in. "Perhaps I have none.", Pyravia stated quietly, looking down at her feet. With his free hand, Illidan placed a thumb underneath her chin and lifted her face to his. "Perhaps I would not face these... issues, if you joined me at night as well.", he muttered, pressing a butterfly kiss to his student's lips. She kissed him lightly back, bringing a hand to her master's cheek. "Would you have me?", she asked, cheeks turning a light pink. "I'd like nothing more.", he replied, a small smile playing at his lips._

The memory left Pyravia as she languished in the feel of Illidan's arms around her, flipping herself over and blissfully laying her face against his burly chest.

The Lord of Outland was unused to constant companionship, even more unfamiliar with missing another's presence. Though his lover had only meant what she said in jest, she had unwittingly hit the nail right on the head. He _did_ miss having her warm skin against his when the chill of evening washed over Shadowmoon, though he would've never admitted it on his own. He was still too proud for such things. Whether that would ever change with time, neither of them knew.

He stroked her hair slowly, occasionally picking a random strand and running it between his fingers. "Tell me something..", she muttered with a soft kiss to Illidan's left pectoral. The Betrayer stopped momentarily, looking down his tall nose at the figure encased in his arms. "Do you regret your past?", she inquired, lazily shutting her eyes and losing herself in the vibration of Illidan's heartbeat.

He resumed his strokes, sighing deeply and closing his eyes. "No.", he finally said, curling a long piece of Pyravia's hair around his thumb. "Why so?", she asked again. He did not answer for several minutes.

"Because I destroyed those who would have destroyed all that my people held sacred.", he answered lowly, his grip on Pyravia tightening. She opened her eyes and sat her head up, placing a hand on her Shan'do's cheek.

"I know you are still hiding something, Shan'do.", she whispered, pulling herself up and kissing him softly. The waves of despair coming off of him seemed to intensify as he even further tightened his grip, seeming to fear that the blood elf would slip away. "Tell me what your true reason is.", she cajoled, worming her index finger under his ever-present blindfold and tugging it over his head. He sighed once more as she adoringly kissed his eyelids, stroking his cheekbone. He brought a large hand up and placed it over hers, curling his fingers around hers and tilting into her touch. "It is not that I regret my past.. more so that perhaps, I fear my future.", he muttered, caressing Pyravia's neck as she lay her head on his collarbones.

"Why do you fear it?"

"I cannot outrun Kil'Jaeden forever.. not a single soul could ever hope to."

"So, you fear death?"

"No.. I cannot truly die, my soul simply returns to the Nether until a fresh body to inhabit is found."

"What is it that intimidates you then?"

"I dread he may take that which I hold closest to my heart.", he mumbled, the pain in his voice becoming more and more evident with every word he spoke.

"How could he..?"

"He is not called 'The Deceiver' simply because it sounds frightening, Dalah'surfal."

She went to speak again, but held her tongue, listening to Illidan's slow breathing. She was in total disbelief. This larger than life figure, one of legends and spoken of in hushed tones, was truly afraid of what fate held in store for him, deep down. Far beneath the anger, the spite and the hatred was a man of intense sorrow, hurt, and dread. She could not imagine having done all that was in her power to save her brethren, only to be scorned and reviled as thanks. How long had he suffered in silence? How long had he buried this deep sadness within, trying to forget its existence? Even further, she could not imagine being endlessly pursued by Kil'Jaeden or the Burning Legion. No, she only knew herself in her new role as the hunter, not the hunted. How long had he feared the Legion's hand?

"What could he take from you that makes you fearful?", she spoke solemnly, placing her arms affectionately around her lover's neck.

"Is it not obvious? See who I lay with.", the Betrayer spat, his fingers curling in frustration, claws lightly digging into her back and neck. He groaned, leaning his jaw against Pyravia's head, loosening his fingers when he felt her wince.

"There is nothing he could rip from me that would cut me as deeply as **you**.. the mere thought of it infuriates and pains me.. "

"He will never tear me from you, Illidan, this I promise.. I prefer death over it...", she reassured quietly, kissing Illidan's jaw.

The Lord of Outland's eyes snapped open at her response, the way she had uttered it as though it was as casual as discussing the weather. "You truly prefer death over my permanent absence?", he wondered aloud, voice thick with incredulity.

"I do.", she spoke quietly, reverently even. Pressing a warm kiss to her head, he whispered lovingly into her ear. "Kenethil'surfas..", he faintly declared, not regretting laying his soul bare in the slightest.


	11. Reaver

"Myrmidons, move forward!", screeched Lady Vashj, directing a squadron of towering naga to a dreadlord in the midst of the battlefield. Kael'thas Sunstrider could be heard shouting incantations and incinerating any demon that dared to come near him. Blood elves, Broken, fel orcs, and naga dotted the fearsome landscape of Legion Hold, vile black liquid and felbood pooling wherever demons were slew. Lady Vashj swiftly loaded her enchanted bow, nocking the arrows with utmost elegance and felling all foes in her wake with grace. She slithered behind a group of sirens casting frostbolts in all directions, striking down any enemy that would harm her precious naga.

The Betrayer crouched on one of the large walls blocking the hold from the outside, demon hunters of all ranks clustered near him, but Pyravia held the closest. "Lead them.", he quietly ordered Kayn Sunfury, holding Pyravia back as the group of Illidari crept down into the fortress. "I want you to go up there, and when the opportune moment comes, strike. You will know when.", Illidan muttered to Pyravia, pointing stealthily at a tall, black tower. "Yes, my lord.", she answered, silently sprinting across the top of the wall, soft footsteps hidden under the clamor of battle. Illidan watched carefully as his Thero'shan easily scaled the typical Legion spikes, reaching the top of the spire and crouching down with warglaives drawn.

The Illidari within the keep suddenly broke their stealth, loud slashes of glaives and furious bellows of rage erupted from within. Blasts of concentrated fel went off here and there, throwing wyrmtongue and felguard out of the keep violently. Illidan snickered lowly, before crashing down into a group of wrathguard, felfire bursting out from beneath his hooves. "Push forward!", he bellowed, before bashing a charging felguard with his wings and brutally slicing a shivarra to bits. The Lord of Outland punted an imp out of his way as he charged to another shivarra cutting her way through a regiment of fel orcs.

Pyravia watched in awe and silence from above, adoration washing over her face as she observed her master's combat prowess. He threw swarming imps off of him like they weighed nothing at all, becoming a whirlwind of anger and blades. Blood sprayed wherever he struck, demons howled in rage, rampaging towards him only to meet their doom as their comrades had.

His high tail of midnight hair twirled around him like a mana wyrm, unhindered and beautiful. The arcane tattoos covering his chest and arms seemed to glow even more intensely than usual, leaving behind a trail of fel embers like a furnace wherever he went. His wings often flared out before flogging any demon that attempted to attack from behind, knocking them to the ground. He growled bloodthirstily as he gored a Mo'Arg's stomach with both glaives, seeming to relish the sea of felblood that poured down on to him. It was a pure state of fury and brutality, one that Pyravia wished she could watch for hours.

Illidan was knocked out of his craze as more demons flooded out of the citadel, closely followed by his Illidari demon hunters. Allari, having now been dubbed "the Souleater", grappled herself on to a charging wrathguard from behind, slicing its throat with her jagged scythe before breathing a deep green mist out from its mouth. Kor'vas Bloodthorn hurtled from demon to demon, becoming a blur of blades and bared fangs. Jace Darkweaver defended a group of Broken shamans, felling any Legion pawn that attempted to silence their spells. Kayn Sunfury was the last to come barreling out of the keep, face spattered with felblood, chasing a pair of fleeing shivarra and shouting taunts in Thalassian.

Pyravia faintly begin to feel the rooftop she was perched upon rattle, causing her to frantically look about the terrain. "Not even the Mo'Arg could create such a quake.", she murmured to herself, eyes fixing upon Illidan until the next tremor came. With each one that came, they became stronger and stronger, soon shaking the earth as though it were made of jelly. Her eyes widened as she saw a massive shadow fall upon the area, fearing to see what its creator was.

There it stood, an intimidating amalgamation of fel and engineering, metal and magic joined in an unholy union. It slammed another club-like foot to the ground, the tremor bouncing Lady Vashj slightly off the ground, sending her hissing angrily to the citadel. It stomped into a group of fel orcs, smashing a few into bloody smears on the ground and scattering the others. The whole of Outland seemed to slow , pieces of the mangled fel orcs flying into the crowd of Illidan's armies. The Betrayer slammed his hoof into the ground, sending another wave of felfire and disintegrating all the Legion demons around him. He turned towards the tower, staring directly at Pyravia. "Now!", he bellowed, aiming a glaive towards the fel reaver.

She began to concentrate all the fel within her, shutting her eyes and feeling it gush into her blood. The magic began to take its hold immediately, her tattoos shining like one of Kael'thas verdant spheres, her skin darkening to a reddish eggplant color. Great bat's wings sprouted from her back, her feet metamorphosing into goat's hooves, her tibia and fibia bending and breaking into satyr's legs. With a burst of vibrant green light, Pyravia completed her demonic transformation, the power of her glaives absorbed into her newfound talons.

With a fearsome roar, she spread her wings and dove into the fel reaver's head, knocking it off balance and causing it to stumble. The demon hunter landed on the colossus' shoulder, attacking one of the lights of its eyes and charging like a ram with her horns. She broke one of the emerald sheets of glass covering an eye , before taking flight once more and narrowly avoiding being swatted down by the reaver's arm. She grappled on to the bars of the reaver's chest, the felcoal glowing brightly within the cage, trying to pry the bars apart. The monster noticing her presence once more, swung its arm down and landed a successful hit, loosening Pyravia's grips and sending her sailing down its metal body. Her claws made a sickening shrieking noise as they raked down the fel-iron, digging deeply into alloy.

Illidan watched in horror as Pyravia tried to tear her talons out of the reaver, legs dangling uselessly above the battlefield and wings beating rapidly. "Illidari! Distract the reaver!", he barked, taking flight and racing to his Thero'shan. Forcing his own talons into the construct, he roughly grabbed Pyravia's arm as she looked up to him in alarm. "Focus.", he growled, ripping her hand out of the construct and diving back down to his army. With a loud grunt, Pyravia released her other hand from the metal body, beating her powerful wings once more and plunging into the reaver's heart cage. The bars she had already bent burst from the construct like broken tooth picks, and with a combo of brutal slashes and one final explosion of fel, the heart was reduced to a pile of smoking rubble.


	12. Caught

The pair sat face to face in the bath font, Pyravia straddling Illidan's spread knees under the water. Their blindfolds and armor lay sitting side by side, a few feet away, dully coated in the faint cobalt glow emanating from the water.

"You must learn to focus in battle... Look what you've done to yourself.", Illidan grumbled, gently taking one of Pyravia's hands and showing her the darkening bruises and deep gouges. "Every injury you receive in your demon form will affect you in this form, try to remember that, won't you?" Pyravia winced silently as the Betrayer took a nearby rag, drenched it in the enchanted mana water, and wrapped it around her hand, gently massaging it. "I do not wish to see you harmed like this again.", he muttered, holding his student against him with his other arm.

She looked up at him, gazing into his diverted eyes, before speaking. "We took Legion Hold for ourselves though. My minor injuries are well worth what we gained, and they are much less grievous than what the fel orcs received.", Pyravia argued, shuddering at the image of fel orcs with bloody, oozing stumps where limbs once were. Illidan scoffed in response. "I do not care for the orcs. I care for you, and it displeases me to see you in pain or marred by vile demons.", he huffed, looking down at her and pressing his forehead against hers. "You did not escape unscathed yourself! Have you seen your body?", she battled further, pointing out every individual marking that the demons had left upon him.

Illidan raised an eyebrow, looking down to the closing wounds. He scoffed again. "Trivial.", he growled, removing the rag from his lover's hand and soaking it in the waters once more, before wrapping her other hand. "Perhaps to you. Have you not thought that it displeases me to see _you_ injured?", the student jested, smirking at her master. Illidan did not reply, struggling to keep his brooding expression on.

With a small titter of triumph, Pyravia leaned up and pressed a kiss to his lips, earning a smile from him as he eagerly kissed back. She pulled away, cupping his jaw with her free hand. "It is so rare that I see you smile..", the blood elf mused, relishing in the short lived grin. Illidan mockingly glared down at her before leaning in and kissing her once more, holding her wrapped hand with his left and cupping her neck with his right.

She pulled back once more as Illidan proceeded to unwrap her other hand, resoaking the cloth and cleaning the wounds that peppered her neck and face. "I wonder..", she pondered as he kneaded a tender spot near her collarbones that had been hit with a chunk of felcoal, "How often did you smile, thousands of years ago?"

Illidan looked up at her bewildered for a moment, before seeming to search for an answer. "Not frequently.", he finally said, returning to kneading and unwinding her bruise. "So not much has changed then, hmm?", she teased, bringing a hand up around his neck and kissing his head. She felt him smile once more, his face hidden. "Shush.", he ordered playfully, placing a strand of kisses that traveled up to her jaw and over to her lips.

She held back from the final kiss, a defiant look in her eyes. "Make me.", she tested, staring directly up into Illidan's fel-iron orbs. A hungry grin crossed his face before he crushed his lips against hers, lust-filled and wanting. His arms wound tightly around her as she felt a certain spot on him begin to harden, her breasts pressed against his chest and her arms around his neck. A loud gasp brought the two out of their reverie, however, Pyravia's eyes widening as she saw Prince Kael'thas staring directly at them.

The prince hid his face bashfully, turning bright shades of red. Illidan haphazardly tossed Pyravia, alarmed at someone seeing the two together in such a state. Whipping his pants and blindfold on, he marched angrily over to the Sin'Dorei prince.

" **Look at me** , Sunstrider.", he commanded, eyes burning through the black bandage. Nervously, Kael'thas raised his gaze to the Betrayer's, ignoring Pyravia attempting to cover herself in the cleansing pool. "Are you _mad,_ Illidan?! And with one of your Illidari, nontheless!", he hissed, suddenly filled with gusto and courage. Illidan backed Kael'thas against the court wall, glare intensifying with every passing moment. "You will say _nothing_ of this to **anyone** , do I make myself clear?", he snarled, venom bleeding through his words.

Kael'thas continued to meet the Lord of Outland's gaze forcefully for a few moments, before faltering and looking to the ground. With an angry huff, Illidan backed away from the prince. "Leave us. **Now.** ", he growled, waving him off and turning his attention back to Pyravia.

"...master?", she said quietly, reaching up to her lover as he neared her. He stripped down quickly once more, taking her hand firmly as he sat back down in the water, wings folded tightly behind him. With his other arm, he reached over and took her by her waist, lifting her up and placing her in his lap before wrapping his strong arms around her. She did not speak as she listened to his ragged breathing, only placing her hands on both sides of his face and stroking his cheekbones. His grip on her tightened as he closed his eyes, letting the feeling of her delicate hands consume him. Taking one hand away from his face, she reached up and untied his high Kal'Dorei tail and blindfold, letting his thick black hair fall down past his shoulders and the blindfold drop on to the surface of the water.

He took a quivering sigh as she straddled his waist, replacing her hand upon his cheek and allowing herself to be pressed tightly against his muscled torso. Slowly, the anger radiating off of him like a fire began to fade, his breathing and heart slowing to a normal pace. "No one may know, I cannot risk losing you.. Kil'Jaeden sees all..", he finally spoke, barely above a whisper, reaching a hand up and curling his fingers around Pyravia's. "Hush..", she soothed, pressing her forehead against his and squeezing his larger hand as best she could. "The Legion has eyes everywhere, I cannot -", he tried to continue, before Pyravia quickly kissed him in an effort to silence him.

"Illidan.. hush.", she said , now more strongly, dragging her thumb in a circle around his temple. The Betrayer released a long breath, melting into his student's caresses and massages. "Do not think of this again.. I'm not going anywhere unless I am by your side, I promise.", she comforted, feeling him begin to unwind once more.


	13. Fallen

"You must go to Mardum and retrieve the Sargerite Keystone.", Illidan ordered, his Illidari demon hunters gathered around him, Pyravia kneeling beside him. "Should you fail, _all_ worlds will burn.", he finished, throwing forth a sphere a green fel that exploded into a portal. Kayn Sunfury and the other Illidari bowed deeply before unsheathing their glaives and rushing through the portal. Pyravia only stood, turning to face her master after worriedly looking down at the war going on at the Black Temple's gates. Illidan softly placed both of his large hands on Pyravia's sharp face, transmitting a small bit of his energy reserves into her, before placing his forehead lovingly against hers. "I will hold them off, Dalah'surfal.. go.", he whispered urgently, placing a firm kiss to her lips. With a solemn nod, she too took off into the portal. Shifting to look at the Sha'tar and other soldiers gathered at the gates, he grimaced. "Let them come...", he growled, returning to the center of the temple summit and beginning his meditations.

"Sunshade.. Follow Kor'vas' lead.", Kayn commanded Pyravia, mounting a fel saber and riding off into the distance with Jace Darkweaver and Izal Whitemoon. "Souleater, Sunshade, stick close.", Kor'vas directed, rushing into a group of jailers enthusiastically. Pyravia and Allari followed close behind, picking up Kor'vas' slack. The three women quickly struck down each demon whose attention they drew, slicing them until they were nothing but leaking, mutilated corpses or piles of ash and dust. As they slashed their way through hordes of felguards and jailers, they came to a halt before several pools of bright green, concentrated fel. The trio stared up in disgust as an inquisitor drifted before them, floating eyes peering at them harshly.

Kor'vas, with an angry shout, leaped backwards and briefly morphed into her demon form, aiming a destructive eye beam up and down the inquisitor's raggedy body. Letting loose an unearthly shriek, the inquisitor's body dissipated until only a single eye remained on the ground before them. Grunting triumphantly, Kor'vas leaped over the fel pools, beckoning to Allari and Pyravia. The three demon hunters fought their way through Mardum, summoning Matron Mother Malevolence and the shivarra, Lady S'theno and the naga, and Battlelord Gaardoun with his Broken where they could. Eventually, the trio came upon the encampment Jace, Izal, and Kayn had formed. Illidari rushed in and out of the foothold, often covered in felblood. Asha Ravensong and Belath Dawnblade stood near the front entrance, slaughtering demons that attempted to force their way through and taunting each other.

"Kor'vas!", Kayn bellowed, pointing to the Night Elf and her accompanying blood elves, "I want you, Souleater, and Sunshade to sneak into the Fel Hammer. Assassinate the Brood Queen and take the ship for the Illidari!"

Kor'vas nodded and saluted, mounting a nearby Illidari Felstalker, Allari and Pyravia following on gargantuan fel sabers. The three searched relentlessly until they found a mysterious, green pad, guarded by a pair of fel lords.

"This must be a shortcut inside.", Allari stated, roughly kicking one of the fel lord's corpses out of her way. "Sunshade, you first.", Kor'vas ordered, motioning for the pale blood elf to step on to the teleporter. Cautiously stepping on to the piece of metal, Pyravia was instantly whisked into the bottom of the Fel Hammer. After whistling sharply out the nearby window, Allari and Kor'vas joined her.

The elves crept along the halls silently, quickly ending the few eredar who noticed their presence, working their way up to Brood Queen Tyranna's center of control. The massive Aranasi brood mother sniffed the air quickly as the demon hunters moved along the walls in the shadows. "Demon hunters...", she hissed, voice filled with disgust as she sent a blast of felfire towards the Illidari women. The three scattered in the nick of time, zooming to each far end of the room. "You cannot hide from me!", Tyranna rasped, spittle flying from her hard, arachnoid lips, sending more blasts wherever she heard the slightest bit of noise.

The Queen growled as her eyes searched the area, scouring for a sign of the Illidari. With a snarl, she turned her back, and Allari burst forth from the darkness behind. The blonde flipped gracefully as she buried her scythe in the back of Tyranna's neck, earning a howl of rage from the Aranasi. Allari smirked cruelly as she returned to the shadows, watching gleefully as Tyranna ripped the scythe out of her flesh, spraying black blood all over her wings and the ground. "The shadows shall only protect you for so long, cowards!", the demon roared, turning her back once more, whirling sharply as Pyravia launched from the murkiness. Pyravia then buried her first warglaive in the brood mother's chest, sprinting back into the shadows, relishing in the Aranasi's screams of torment. With furious grunt, Tyranna tore the glaive mired in her flesh out and threw it to the ground with a loud clatter. Her back turned once more, Kor'vas leaped from the gloom, intending to finish off Tyranna, only to find her throat suddenly in the demon's grasp. Her glaives crashed to the ground with a loud clang, her gloved hands pounding against the Queen's tightening fist. A cruel smile grew across Tyranna's face as Kor'vas struggled for breath, but suddenly diminished when the two Blood Elves threw themselves at her for the final time. Allari released a burst of concentrated fel, knocking Kor'vas from the Queen's grip and sending the night elf sailing across the room, while Pyravia buried her final blade in the top of the demon's skull.

With a final scream of agony, Tyranna fell forward with a loud crash, the glaive coming loose from her head and skidding across the ground in front of her corpse. Allari immediately retrieved her scythe and stowed it on her back, before charging over to Kor'vas' slumped and singed figure.

"It is done, you are beaten.", Maiev declared, surrounded by adventurers and fellow wardens as Illidan collapsed to his knees. "You have won, Maiev, but the huntress is _nothing_ without the hunt. You are _nothing.._ without me.", he hissed, falling flat on his chest, his head crashing sideways to the ground. There, he saw her slim visage, standing before him at the gates of the Black Temple, the very first moment he had ever laid eyes upon her. It rippled like pond water, ethereal and otherwordly. She stood before him, untainted by the fel, frail and weak from mana addiction ravaging her body. Her defiant and angry eyes bright.. the very ones he had taken from her. Her rebellious spirit, the one he had fallen so deeply in love with, shone even brighter than the sun itself. With his last breath, Illidan murmured her name. "Pyr...avia...", he rattled, the light of felfire fading from his eyes.

"The very fel you have taken into you shall be your eternal prison, Betrayer.", Maiev spat as she encased Illidan's body in the massive crystal of demonic magic. A portal reopened, snapping the wardens' attention to it as Illidari poured out, battle-torn and covered in demon's blood. "Lord Illidan has fallen...", Kayn suddenly muttered in disbelief, turning to Kor'vas at his side. Pyravia's eyes widened as she looked to see if it were true, her heart shattering into tiny pieces as she saw her lover being sealed into the crystal. Blind rage took over as she shakily unsheathed her blades, summoning up every remaining bit of fel energy in her body and rushing towards the wardens. "Illidari, avenge the master!", Kor'vas shouted, leading the charge behind Pyravia.

 _How can this be? It cannot... it must be a dream..._

She wrenched her glaive beneath a warden's cuirass, burying the blade deep within and ripping it out, spilling crimson blood on to the temple summit.

 _Illidan..._

The Night Elf's blood sprayed on to Pyravia, layering over the congealing felblood. She rushed forth again, slashing a warden's throat with both glaives, scarlet pouring out from the grievous wound.

 _Illidan!_

She felled yet a third warden, before Maiev stunned her and threw the weapons out of her grasp.

 _ILLIDAN!_

"You bear the mark of **his** corruption.", Maiev snarled, rallying the remaining wardens, who began encasing the other demon hunters in prisons similar to Illidan's. "The demon's blood within you shall be your prison!"

 _Master... Wake me from this dream, I beg you.._

The felblood within the Blood Elf fueled Maiev as she began to seal Pyravia too into a huge, emerald rock.

 _Kenethil'surfas... Dalah'surfal.._

Her eyes closed languidly as the gem traveled up over her body, until it covered her face, sealing her desperate yet calm expression, and the single tear running down from her blindfold.


	14. Delusional Righteousness

_At least you're still in my memories... I wonder, are you thinking the same? Or are your thoughts furious and clouded? Or... do you not think at all? Is your mind absent in the Nether?_

 _You worried so vehemently that I would be taken from you, that Kil'Jaeden would turn me against you and rip me from your grasp, taking your heart with you. How strange that it was **you** who was torn from **me**.. _

_I can still hear the last words you had spoken to me, I can still feel the last kiss that you had gifted me so hurriedly... In your last moments, what had you thought, what had you felt? Was it fear... sadness? Anger, even? Who had come to your mind as you faded? Perhaps I shall never know..._

 _Illidan.. where are you?_

 _Maiev... you think yourself one of the "righteous" for your actions, **how wrong you are**..._

Pyravia struggled to open her eyes within her crystalline prison, fury boiling up deep in her heart as Maiev Shadowsong dragged a wicked gauntlet down the emerald and cyan gem. "My only solace has been knowing that the world is safe from _**your**_ kind, for so so long...", the warden growled, staring into the crystal. The imprisoned Blood Elf could faintly hear explosions and the shouts of other wardens.

"But..", the Night Elf said with a labored inhale, "I would do anything to save Azeroth." In that moment, Maiev's massive chakram slammed down , breaking open the fel colored rock, releasing Pyravia. The demon hunter fell to her knees as she crashed to the ground, breathing in the fresh air as though she would never breathe again.

She stood, wobbling slightly from the many years she had not used her legs, catching the pair of glaives Maiev tossed to her. "Will you help us?", the warden implored, harshly gazing down at Illidan's disciple. Pyravia snarled as she stood to her full height, spitting at the warden's feet. "I will not hesitate to put you back in your **cage** , demon hunter.", Maiev snapped, breaking another Illidari free from a nearby crystal. Casting her eyes downward, Pyravia thought for a moment, before looking back up at the warden, eyes gleaming like smoldering coals through her blindfold. "I will, but **not** because I consider you my ally.", she grimaced. "Then the feeling is mutual.", Maiev agreed, freeing another low ranking Illidari as Pyravia charged out into the halls of the Vault of the Wardens.

"Sunshade, over here!", called out Allari the Souleater, who was taking down an inquisitor with Asha Ravensong. "Where is Sunfury?", Pyravia questioned breathlessly, weakened from the many years without motion. "Don't worry about him right now, help Ravensong and I beat back these fiends. It'll restore your strength.", the blonde ordered as she finished her final blow, the inquisitor dissipating into only a single eye. "Push forward!", Asha bellowed to the few Illidari who fought with more demons pouring in from a tunnel to the side, Jace Darkweaver among them. Wardens dotted the dim dungeon, slicing quickly away at the monsters with their jagged chakram.

Pyravia followed Asha, tearing apart any felguard or inquisitor that stood in their way. With each demon they felled, Pyravia was reinvigorated, the felblood that spattered on to her skin seeming to leak power back into her. As they moved throughout the vault, they smashed open the mirror-like prisons that held their allies, eventually happening upon Kayn Sunfury. The Illidari quickly regrouped , listening to Kayn as he gave them orders. The groups ran off in all directions, all but Pyravia, chasing down straggling Legion flunkies. "Sunshade, I wish for you to accompany me and Warden Shadowsong to where Lord Illidan is being held.", Kayn requested, taking off in the direction of the Betrayer's prison, the younger Blood Elf following closely behind, excitement building in her heart.

"Altruis!", Kayn roared as he saw the dark Night Elf standing next to Maiev Shadowsong, the Warden trying to unlock the way into Illidan's vault. "You dare show your face here?"

"I do not do it on my own accord, Kayn.", growled Altruis, "The Wardens imprisoned me, just the same as they did to you."

"Enough! You may quarrel when we're not being invaded!", Maiev bellowed, finally forcing the heavy stone doors open. There in the darkness stood Gul'dan and a fel-infected warden, circled around a massive crystal, the shadow of Illidan's body deep within it. The two mumbled incoherently to each other, turning to look behind them as Maiev stormed angrily into the chamber. "Cordana! You will answer to the High Council for this!", she shouted, pointing her chakram at the traitorous elf. "Judge me all you like, sister, I answer to a higher power.", Cordana cackled, Gul'dan beginning a series of incantations, lime-green light circling around the Betrayer's prison. "Move!", Pyravia screamed, shoving her way through the group of elves and sprinting towards her master.

Gul'dan laughed cruelly as Pyravia was thrown back brutally by an invisible forcefield, her glaives skidding across the rough stone as she landed on her side. Within seconds, the gem disappeared, a massive nether portal opening in its place. Cordana Felsong and Gul'dan walked calmly through the portal as two smaller ones opened on the side, gargantuan Mo'Arg stomping out of them, rattling the glaives on the ground. Pyravia unsteadily picked herself up off the dusty stone floor as the Mo'Arg let loose terrifying, bestial roars, drool flying from their lips. Kayn ran to other Blood Elf, handing her warglaives to her and tugging her away from the threatening demons.

Maiev marched forward into the center of the platform, readying her chakram. "Illidari, you must go!" she commanded, "Find Archmage Khadgar, you can trust him! Put an end to this madness!"


	15. Tear Their Heart Out

With every passing day, anger consumed Pyravia more and more. Hatred of the Legion, of demons, of Gul'dan, burned in her eyes. Wherever she found them on the Broken Isles, she slaughtered them, brutally and leaving nothing but smears of blood. She traveled throughout the Isles, from Aszuna to Stormheim and everywhere in between, no goal in mind other than slaughtering Legion other Illidari often backed away from her as she walked throughout the Fel Hammer, more so out of fear than respect. "Sunshade.", greeted Kayn Sunfury coolly, saluting the pale Blood Elf in front of the center of command. "Why did you summon me..?", she hissed, flicking fresh felblood from her glaive before sheathing it.

"There is something you may be.. interested in. We've tracked down the location of Caria Felsoul, and she happens to be carrying some immensely intriguing weapons. Slay her and they are yours.", Kayn explained, his voice suddenly taking on a more serious tone. Pyravia suddenly snapped her gaze to the Illidari general, the sounds of Broken, naga, and shivarra bustling about fading away. "I've spoken with Kor'vas about this very topic, she believes you would be best suited to using them, given your sudden and extreme... vendetta against the Legion. What makes them exceedingly unique is their ability to absorb the soul of whatever they bring down, increasing the user's power.", he explained further, looking Pyravia up and down.

She scoffed in response. "You call this 'extreme'? Is this not what we were trained to do?", she growled, testiness begging to take over her voice entirely. "Silence yourself.", Kayn huffed, holding up a palm. "You must return to the Broken Shore and retrieve the Aldrachi Warblades from Caria. The Legion cannot be allowed to control them any longer, the consequences will be dire should the traitorous bitch continue to wield them."

"Why do you not join me, sister? The Legion grants so much more power and honor than Illidan could have ever hoped to!", Caria squawked gleefully and manically, slashing away at the pale Blood Elf in front of her. The Warblades clashed and clanged violently against Pyravia's glaives, sparks flying in all directions. "You're a traitor, Caria, you have no honor.", Pyravia snarled in response, performing a Fel Rush and slamming into the former Night Elf. "Your master is not coming back, weakling, why do you cling to his pathetic order so vehemently?!", she shrieked, bashing Pyravia with the side of a warblade and knocking her to the ground. Baring her teeth and ignoring the fresh blood soaking into her blindfold, Pyravia threw herself from the ground on to Caria, rolling the two into a downhill somersault. Caria screamed angrily, tossing the Blood Elf from her with a screeching grunt. "Now.. die , whelpling.", she hissed, unfolding her massive bat's wings and soaring to Pyravia.

As the demoness leaned back to plunge both warblades into Pyravia's abdomen, she felt both of the Illidari's glaives force their way into her leathery flesh. Pyravia buried the first in her chest, the second in her lower stomach, removing them both quickly and delighting in Caria's howls of agony, the felblood gushing from the fresh wounds into a thick puddle on the rocky ground. Caria fell to her knees, her hooves immediately beginning to split and splinter from the harshness of crashing to the ground. Grotesque gurgles escaped from her mouth as Pyravia forced her first glaive in between the traitor's ribs, twisting it, smiling cruelly as felblood spattered out of her mouth, dripping from her fangs and lower lip. Pyravia slowly brought her face down to meet Caria's, cocking her head and twisting the glaive further, grinning as Caria screamed. "Traitor.", Pyravia whispered, twisting the glaive and ripping it out of the demoness. She quietly stepped to the side as Caria flopped down, blood pooling around her. Without a single word, Pyravia scraped the blood off her glaives on Caria's splayed wings, sheathing them on her back as she retrieved the Aldrachi Warblades.

Months passed, Pyravia and the Warblades both growing in power. The chaos and fel magics she had learned morphed and evolved into new, more violent and fiery abilties. Her Warblades eventually transformed from the dull gold blades to horned silver ones, flecked with bright green felblood and cyan flames drifting off the blade itself. Between the horns sat the Illidari rune, glowing faintly. As the Warblades consumed more and more souls, Pyravia's resentment of the Legion increased. Internally, she became lonely, and externally, introverted and withdrawn. Her loneliness magnified as Illidan's absence weighed heavier on her with each passing moment, her mind still holding on to the slim chance that her master could be retrieved and revived.

" _What in the name of the Light are you doing?", gaped Belath Dawnblade, standing behind Pyravia as she knelt before a pool, deep within a clearing in Aszuna. The female Blood Elf held her long hair in bunch, a gleaming knife held against it. "Keeping freehanging hair is asking for it to be torn out by demons.", she murmured, before tearing the blade through her onyx locks, chunks of hair falling into the clear water. Belath watched incredulously as she sliced more and more off, until only her bangs and a small amount remained. Her hair curved up her head, her bangs and the strands falling down the sides of her face shaped triangularly. "Leave me.", she commanded, dropping the last bits of her locks into the pond._

"On this day, I name you Slayer, leader of the Illidari.", Kayn declared, bowing before Pyravia as the renewed blood of Caria and Veredis Felsoul dripped from her Warblades. Her expression could not be seen beneath her new armor, face entirely obscured beneath her Shattered Abyss mask. She merely saluted, ignoring the cheers of the Illidari gathered behind her, vaguely disgusted by the naga males' guttural cries and hisses. "The hour of reckoning is near, Slayer Pyravia. With Xe'ra's help, the master will be returned to us, and Gul'dan shall be thwarted."

 _ **The Illidari, in the time that Pyravia had been using to scour the Broken Isles for demons, had found the elusive Light's Heart and opened communications with Xe'ra, who told of the great prophecy that held the Betrayer at its center. They gathered souls and numerous other resources, preparing to take back their Master's soul from the depths of the Twisting Nether. Armies were beginning to gather, the Nightfallen rebellion gaining strength, and the fire within Pyravia's heart burning like a supernova. The Slayer's hatred had overtaken her, her blood boiling at the mere mention of demons, but her heart softening and mind clearing at the sound of her Shan'do's name.**_


	16. We Are Complete

"Do not relent! Our hour is at hand!", shouted Pyravia, lifting one of the Aldrachi Warblades high and directing her demon hunters into the top of the Nightspire. Her voice rang out over the clamor of battle, the snarls and animalistic yelps of Legion demons, the clang of warglaives against armor and the explosions of fel runes. The horde of innumerable warriors, priests, warlocks, shamans, mages, druids, paladins, rogues, even death knights of all races barreled into Grand Magistrix Elisande's point of command. The battle was short lived, the tyrant leader of the Shal'Dorei struck down with relative ease, as though she had finally grown tired of fighting. Almost as though she met death happily, weary of living under the Legion's heel. It was no matter to Slayer Pyravia and the rest of the Illidari, they thought nothing of Gul'dan's pawn as they stampeded to the top of the Nighthold, where the Destroyer of Dreams worked his foul magic on the master's body.

"I see you've returned..", the orc snickered mockingly, not turning to meet Pyravia, who stood in front of the band of demon hunters and other assorted Illidari. "Your treachery has come to an end, Gul'dan.", she hissed, drawing her Warblades once more. "Why fight it, elf? The Legion's plans are nearly complete.. there is no stopping Sargeras from entering this _**pitiful**_ world.", Gul'dan spat, turning and glaring at the crowd of elves, naga, and shivarra. The warlock drew his staff and slammed the bottom of it to the ground, sending a wave of felfire towards the Illidari. "Charge! For Lord Illidan!", the Slayer bellowed, transforming into a horrifying, spiked demon as her warriors dashed towards Gul'dan from both sides. He snarled angrily as vengeful demon hunters threw themselves at him, slicing him all over with honed glaives, spraying thick felblood across the amethyst and silver floor. The orc tore the top of his robe away, revealing the jagged spikes that rose up from his withered back and shoulders.

With a bestial growl, Pyravia threw herself into the air and crashed to the ground brutally, sending a wave of felfire and summoning a burning rune beneath her. Screaming incoherently, she went into a revenge-crazed frenzy, slashing at Gul'dan over and over with her wicked claws. Grunting loudly, Gul'dan brought his staff and belted the Slayer, sending her sailing to the edge of the Nightspire and landing with a loud thud. Inhaling deeply, his veins began to glow and more spikes erupted from his body, his foul eyes radiating a deep crimson. A shivarra immediately tried to run to the Slayer, before being blasted with a foul torrent of felfire, incinerated immediately.

"Intensify your attacks!", shrieked Asha Ravensong, anxiously peering up the growing rift in the sky and the former Lord of Outland's prison. Gul'dan laughed cruelly as a demon hunter impaled himself on the orc's back spikes, his amusement intensifying as he turned and heaved the body on to a group of Broken. The other waves of Horde and Alliance alike soon joined the battle, even Archmage Khadgar, Tyrande Whisperwind, Malfurion Stormrage, and Prophet Velen united with the brave fighters.

"You have done nothing! The Dark Titan will tear your world apart!", Gul'dan madly raged, his skin turning a deep scarlet and more jagged lances ripping their way up out of his body. He grabbed several charging Worgen by their throats and whipped them into a battalion of Tauren sunwalkers, knocking them all on their backs.

 _No! I cannot fall! That bastard orc will eat his own teeth before I do!_

A few Draeni maidens sprinted to the fallen Slayer, placing their hands upon her and chanting healing spells quickly. "Go, Slayer!", one whispered encouragingly as the Blood Elf slowly shifted out of her new demon form, lifting herself to her feet and charged back into battle. Leaping back into the fray, felflames exploded around Pyravia, singeing Gul'dan every time he made an effort to grab her and throw her like she weighed nothing. Numerous demon hunters began to burst into winged, hoofed demons, trading in their glaives for sharp talons, slicing Gul'dan's skin to ribbons, only for it to be regenerated.

"Mother Moon, guide our hands! Lead us to victory in this dark hour!", Tyrande cried, shooting a series of illuminated arrows at the warlock, tears of Elune beginning to crash into the arena. The rift in the sky kept widening, the Twisting Nether writhing and curling within, numerous stars and fires visible. Within moments, the final blow was struck, Kayn Sunfury drove his warglaive into Gul'dan's chest, ripping it out and spilling felblood all over the ground.

"No.. it cannot be!", Gul'dan gasped, crawling to the edge of the Nightspire, reaching his arm up towards the quickly closing portal. "No!", he shouted as it slammed shut with a boom, the sonic crash knocking Illidan's prison out of the air and crashing it into a Shal'Dorei statue.

Great bat's wings burst forth from behind him, the orc writhed as a clawed hand found its way around his throat and lifted him from the ground. He turned his head, eyes widening as he gazed into the stony face of the Betrayer, screaming as he felt the fel immolate within him. It crawled up his skin, disintegrating and burning him from within. With a powerful beat of Illidan's wings, Gul'dan shattered, nothing but lime-green embers remaining, drifting off into the wind.

The great Night Elf turned to the crowd of injured denizens behind him, eyes widening as all began to recognize who he was. There was one face he could not see, however, as the attached and familiar body began to step forward.

The world slowed, she could not feel her limbs. Her blinded eyes welded themselves to the powerful and familiar figure, the one she had spent so many nights intertwined with, whose lips she had felt upon her own and whose hands she had felt against her face, whose presence she had longed for for what seemed like millennia, whose absence fueled her anger and whose guidance had molded her into a weapon of untold potential.

 **The tears began to flood down her face beneath her mask.**

The onyx haired Blood Elf flung her warblades to the ground with a loud crash, breaking into a sprint, ripping her mask off and throwing herself against the Betrayer, arms winding tightly around him as ragged sobs ripped their way out of her. He fell to his knees, bringing her to the ground with him, gathering her in his strong arms and closing his eyes, cherishing the feel of her skin against his once more.

The horde of fighters gaped as they saw the Betrayer and the Slayer in a tight embrace, the few moments of silence broken by Pyravia's overwhelming wails of both joy and long hidden sadness. Tyrande and Malfurion's eyes became like saucers as they stepped forward, Illidan lifting his head from his lover's shortened hair. The Illidari knelt in reverence once they shook the shock off, saluting their lord bravely and shouting various phrases of victory. "Brother.", Malfurion said in awe and bewilderment, his gaze meeting Illidan's as the Betrayer stood, still holding the sobbing Pyravia against him.

Illidan did not respond, only slightly nodding his head in the Archdruid's direction. "Illidan... Is it truly you?", Tyrande warbled in disbelief, looking him up and down and focusing on the Blood Elf in his arms. He only smirked slightly, before turning his attention back to Pyravia, no longer caring who saw the two of them after he had been separated from her for so long. He gently tilted her face up out of his chest, pressing a warm kiss to her forehead, eyes quickly looking over every new scar that was now present upon her sharp face.

Reluctantly, he let the younger demon hunter go, stepping around Tyrande and Malfurion, his expression becoming hard. "Mortals, you have seen what I have seen!",he declared, raising his fist to the air, "Now, follow me into the **abyss**!"


	17. The Lion and the Lamb

The newly reunited pair lay wrapped in each other's arms, next to a hidden and magically charged pool in Aszuna. The clearing was far into the forest on the border of Val'Sharah, nearly completely unable to be found, dense woods surrounding them on all sides of the clearing. Ley crystals sprouted from the ground and acted as a floor in the pool, pale violet and cobalt lights shining from them, starlight shimmering high above them. The two moons were full, casting a cool, ivory glow down on to the couple. Much of Pyravia's armor sat in a pile near a large, dark tree, as did her Aldrachi Warblades and Illidan's Warglaives of Azzinoth.

The Betrayer held the small of her back tightly and possessively, his other hand stroking across her scarred cheekbone. Her blindfold lay next to Illidan's shoulder, still damp from the tears she had shed in the Nighthold. More tears welled up in her eyes as she leaned heavily into his touch, a blissful smile shining on her face and light sighs escaping her.

Illidan gently shook his head as he wiped away a misty drop from her blinded eye, a small but warm smile etching its way on to his face. "No more tears, now..", he softly scolded, pressing an affectionate kiss to Pyravia's lips. She did not respond, only kissing him deeply, before pulling away and resting her head on his chest as she had so many times in the past. The Slayer went to speak again, before Illidan pressed a thumb to her lips to silence her.

"Do not speak.. ", he ordered serenly, stroking what little hair Pyravia still had left. She quieted, her tears drying as she listened to his slow, languid heartbeat.

"While I was imprisoned in that infernal crystal.. while my soul wandered the Nether.. my only solace was you, the memories I had of you.", he confessed, laying his head back and sighing. "Periodically, once Gul'dan had taken my body from the Wardens' vault, I could see you... Mirrors of you, floating about the Nether.." Pyravia turned her head and looked up to her master, eyebrows furrowing inquisitively.

"It drove me mad.", he growled, his talons beginning to cut into the Slayer's skin as he tightened his grip in passing anger. "Why?", she pressed, turning entirely on to her stomach and placing both hands on Illidan's face, softly stroking his cheekbones. "I could not make my presence known to you.. I could see you, in those moments you thought yourself to be alone. The despair in your eyes... It was that same wretched expression you had worn so many years ago..", he murmured, relishing in her caresses. "You are here now, Shan'do, and I shall follow you wherever you may go.", she reaffirmed, bringing her lips to his in a tender kiss. Pyravia felt his fingers loosen and arms stiffen as he melted into the kiss, his desperate emotions bleeding forth as he needily devoured her lips, his brows knitting together as his heart began to pound.

Illidan pulled slightly back, Pyravia's forehead resting against his, both their eyes shut. "To the ends of the universe then..", he whispered passionately, leaning in to kiss his Dalah'surfal once more.

 _ **Love is the most binding and powerful force known in the universe, even stronger than fel. The fel and mutual hatred is not what joined the two elves so many years ago. It is not what bound their spirits, it is not what made their hearts beat in unison, it is not what gave their souls new life. No, a force far greater than destruction and even the hand of fate intertwined them. Love sealed their bond, a quickly growing bond that went far deeper and stretched far farther than either one would have ever expected it to become when they first set eyes upon each other. And so the Slayer lay with the Betrayer, to the ends of all worlds they would follow each other, now and forever.**_


End file.
